


Pieces

by EmmaB13



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Autism, M/M, also i stan Jacobi, give the boys peanut brittle 2k19, this storys cute ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2020-12-23 17:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaB13/pseuds/EmmaB13
Summary: Morris always knew he was different. And, for some reason, wrong. But there was nothing he could do besides hide it. He wasn't very good at that, though.Henry noticed. And he wanted to know more. What was so different about him? And why did everyone else think he was wrong?When the two finally come together, they learn more about each other, and themselves, than they ever would've imagined.Mel thanks for helping ily





	1. Different

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itzmelanieaphfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzmelanieaphfan/gifts).

Morris had always known he was different. Everyone knew. He wasn't just different. He was wrong. At least that's what he thought. And Wiesel. And Snyder. And Oscar, sometimes. It was never an issue until mom and dad left. Then, Oscar blamed him and he believed it. Why wouldn't he? Oscar was smarter. Then, he tried to hide everything and act as much like Oscar as he could. He couldn't be different.  
Had it been about 50 years later, he would've been diagnosed with autism. But it was 1899. It hadn't been identified yet. So nobody had any idea why Morris wasn't like everyone else.  
His uncle Wiesel had him working at the distribution window with Oscar. Morris didn't work much, though. He'd usually get distracted pretty quickly. Sometimes, Oscar would try to pick a fight with one of the newsies. When that happened, Morris would try to act tough, just like Oscar. He wasn't nearly as intimidating, though.  
Morris wouldn't fight. He knew it was wrong. Oscar and Wiesel tried to convince him otherwise, but it never worked. The best they could do was give him brass knuckles and hope he hit someone. He would happily put on brass knuckles. He liked how they felt. Cold metal. His favorite feel.  
Wiesel and Oscar didn't really want Morris at the distribution window, but they couldn't keep him back. He usually followed Oscar everywhere, especially if he would be gone for a long time. If Oscar went, Morris would go too. And leaving Oscar back wasn't an option. Wiesel needed the help.  
There was one good thing about Morris: when he got upset, he'd punch his hand. That made it much easier for Wiesel to convince him to punch other people. A good way to hurt the newsies. Morris knew it wasn't right, but he also knew that Wiesel was smarter than him, so he'd usually listen.  
They didn't want Morris for many reasons. One, he couldn't pay attention. He got distracted by everything, and it didn't help that he was especially interested in weather. Every morning, as soon as he saw the newspaper, he'd open it up to the weather and try to tell Oscar all about it. Then, when he didn't want to talk anymore, he would start fidgeting. He'd mostly tap on the papers, the table, and sometimes his leg. Sometimes, usually later in the shift, he'd clink coins. He usually got yelled at for that. Wiesel hated when anyone touched his money, even though Morris always remembered to put it back. If Wiesel yelled at him for tapping or clinking, he'd twirl. Wiesel hated that the most. He thought it made Morris seem less tough, as if anyone would think he was. And, after that, Wiesel would find a chair and tell Morris to sit and stay. He would usually make Morris sit on his hands so he couldn't tap. Then he'd bounce, and Wiesel knew it was hopeless. But Morris was getting better and controlling it, and trying to act more "normal".  
But even worse than that was when he got upset. That happened a lot. He was very sensitive to loud noises. With the newsies yelling and the gates creaking (a sound that Morris hated more than any other), he got overwhelmed most days. That didn't always bother Wiesel too much, though. Usually, it only affected Morris. Sometimes it made it hard for him to work, since he couldn't think about anything. But work was always hard, since he had trouble focusing. He'd feel like all the noise was driving him crazy, the noise would seem to multiply itself by a thousand, and he'd want a distraction, but nothing helped. But, sometimes, when it was especially bad, he would start humming, and if it got worse, he'd scream. So if he started humming, Wiesel had to scare the newsies into shutting up without them knowing it was because of Morris. But they all knew Morris was different, despite Wiesel's efforts to hide it.  
One newsie saw Morris as more than just that weird kid that was different from everyone else, and that was Henry. Henry knew someone else that was pretty similar to Morris, and had an idea of what to do to make him happy and to help him understand that there was nothing wrong with him. Because there wasn't.  
Henry knew he couldn't talk to Morris in front of Wiesel and Oscar. So, every day, he tried to be the last in line to get his papers. Usually, when Morris was told to sit, he would stay there until they left. So, when Wiesel and Oscar were putting away the leftover papers, Morris was at the window by himself. That was when Henry had to talk to him.  
One day, Morris started twirling. Henry knew that Morris would be told to sit. Then, eventually, he was. After he bought his papers, Henry stuck around and pretended to look them over, and kept his back to Morris. Oscar and Wiesel left, and Morris stayed where he was. When Henry turned around, he saw Morris watching him with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.  
"Lookin' it over. Seein' what headlines I got," Henry explained.  
Morris seemed to think about that for a moment, then nodded. He grabbed one of the leftover papers that nobody took yet, then opened up to the weather. He had already read it, but wanted to make sure Henry saw it. Henry looked at the pages Morris had opened up to.  
"Weather? Why?" There was nothing unusual in the forecast that Morris could be trying to warn him about.  
Morris didn't reply. Instead, he read over the page again. Henry didn't bring it up again.  
"Hey, I saw those twirls. Pretty good," Henry said. Henry was a dancer himself, as well as most of the other newsies. Maybe that's how he could connect with Morris? But, Morris had no interest in dance. Just twirls. They were fun and made him happy.  
Morris laughed, but not quite an amused laugh. Henry wasn't exactly sure what kind of laugh it was, and wasn't even sure Morris knew. But the reason was, he was happy that Henry wasn't mad about the twirls like everyone else was.  
Oscar and Wiesel came back out to put away the last stack of papers. Henry went back to pretending to flip through. Morris was still smiling, and had started bouncing again. They immediately knew something had happened. Wiesel handled the papers, and Oscar stayed with Morris.  
"Hey, Mo, what happened?" he asked. He was trying to sound calm and patient, which usually worked when trying to get something out of Morris.  
Morris laughed again, the same way as before.  
Oscar turned to Henry. His expression and tone had changed. "What happened?"  
Henry looked up. "Just makin' conversation, is all." Then, he turned back to Morris. "Hey, wanna come back by the lodging house when I'm done sellin'?"  
Morris nodded, then Oscar grabbed him and pulled him out of the house. He really didn't want Morris becoming friends with a newsie. As soon as Morris was up and no longer sitting on his hands, he started flapping them. So he was actually happy about meeting Henry later. The opposite of what Oscar wanted. But, hopefully, Morris wouldn't go alone. Because Oscar and Wiesel definitely wouldn't take him.


	2. Jacobi's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now the peanut brittle tag makes sense

Morris managed to convince Oscar to walk him back to the lodging house a few hours later. He was running ahead for most of the walk, but Oscar caught up when Morris stopped to laugh and flap his hands. The only reason Oscar agreed was because he knew it made Morris happy, and he usually wasn't happy around Wiesel.  
Henry was waiting outside the lodging house. Oscar stayed behind and Morris ran to Henry.   
"Hey, Mo," Oscar called out. "I'm gonna go back to the house, okay?"  
Morris nodded quickly, never turning his attention away from Henry. Oscar left, but kept turning back to look at them, to make sure Henry wasn't doing anything to hurt Morris. He wasn't, though. He was just talking, and Morris was listening.  
Morris didn't talk much, especially not to people he barely knew. The only person he could talk comfortably to was Oscar, but even that was difficult sometimes. Sometimes, he couldn't talk at all, even if he wanted to. That was mostly with people he didn't know.   
"We're not gonna stay here," Henry said. "Wanna go to Jacobi's?"  
Morris nodded happily. He loved Jacobi's. It smelled amazing in there. He ran ahead, Henry following close behind. Morris eventually slowed down, now skipping rather than running, giving Henry a chance to catch up.   
Henry smiled. "Excited?"   
Morris smiled and started happy flapping. Then he stopped and looked at Henry. He nodded, and Morris started flapping again. Henry felt bad, knowing that was probably a result of him being yelled at for that in the past.  
Henry kept walking, stopping every few moments for Morris to catch up. He had started walking slower, and was now starting to fall behind. Henry didn't mind, though.   
When they got there, Morris ran up to the desk and started talking to Jacobi. Henry then realized that he had never heard Morris speak before. His voice was very quiet, shaky, and he was speaking in a higher pitch, almost like he was nervous.  
After a few minutes of them talking, Jacobi went into the back and got two peanut brittle bars for Morris. Every day, Jacobi had some kind of treat for Morris. Usually, it was something he bought from the bakery or general store, or something he made at home and brought in.   
Morris ran back to Henry and gave him one of the bars. "Thank you," Henry smiled and put it in his pocket. He used to eat peanut brittle all the time. His family's deli used to sell it, and they gave him the extras. But he hadn't had any since the deli closed.   
Morris grabbed Henry's hand and led him to the back. He stopped in front of a door and turned to Jacobi. He opened the door, and Morris brought Henry in. Henry looked around. It was a small room, lit by two candles. There were two piles of pillows and blankets on opposite sides of the room, with a candle next to each pile. One was very neat, and the other looked like it was very lazily made. Morris sat on the neater one, then tapped the pillow next to him. Henry sat where Morris had tapped.  
Henry looked around again. "Is this your room?" It wasn't what Henry had expected. The bunks in the lodging house were much nicer than this.   
Morris looked around as well. "Sometimes..."   
"Wh-What...?" Henry wasn't expecting him to speak.  
"Sometimes," he repeated, now a little louder and more confident.  
Henry was confused, but didn't want to ask any more questions. Morris looked up, then rested his head on Henry's shoulder. They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Morris fell asleep, still leaning on Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacobi is underrated give my man some love


	3. The Trolley Strike

Henry always made sure he was last on line for his papers. It gave him more time with Morris. Sometimes, he'd notice Morris was looking towards the back of the line, trying to see where Henry was. He'd get excited every time he saw Henry. Then, when it was finally Henry's turn, Morris would always grab one of the papers and show Henry the weather page, making sure he saw it before putting the paper back.  
If Morris was still at the lodging house when Henry got back, they'd go to Jacobi's together. Jacobi always started getting extra snacks for Henry, and if he wasn't there one day, Morris would make sure he got it somehow.  
Most of the other newsies didn't like Morris very much. Not for the reasons Wiesel and Oscar didn't, though. They didn't mind him being different. But, they all hated Wiesel and Oscar for obvious reasons, and some hated Morris by association. And, yeah, he wasn't the nicest person in the world, but he was certainly nicer than Oscar and Wiesel.  
It had been three weeks since the news of the trolley strike was first reported. The cops had been trying to shut it down since, but there wasn't much they could do. And one day, one of them asked Oscar for help.  
"So...what do you want from me?" Oscar asked.   
The cop smiled. "Well, I was hoping you and your brother could show those guys who's boss. Beat 'me up for us, will ya?"  
"Me and my brother?" Oscar repeated. He turned to look at Morris, who was standing behind him. Morris was nervous, pulling at his sleeve, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He didn't like cops very much. Oscar wasn't sure he'd be able to beat up the trolley workers. Getting him to touch a newsie was hard enough. "So, uh...what do ya say, Mo?"  
Morris quickly shook his head. No fighting. Fighting is wrong. Fighting makes people hurt, and that makes them not happy. And they should be happy.  
"We'll pay ya. $3.50. Each," the cop said.  
Oscar agreed immediately. $3.50 could buy him a lot. And it was more than he made working at the window.  
Morris thought about it. He didn't need the money. He didn't get paid as it is, Oscar collected his half and he didn't see a penny of it. And he got by. But Henry could use it. So he agreed.  
The next morning, after selling papers to the newsies, the brothers would go to the trolley worker rally and do the job.   
Henry stepped up to the window. The last person. He smiled. "Hey, Mo. Doing anything fun today?"  
"Yeah!" Morris smiled. He had finally started opening up to Henry.  
"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Henry took his papers and opened the top one to the weather.  
"We're gonna go to the trolley strike!"   
"That's fun! Maybe I can stop by, yeah?"  
"Yeah!"   
Henry chuckled, closed the paper, and put it in his bag. "Alright, I'll see you in a bit." He smiled and left.   
"See you in a bit!" More repeated, happy flapping. Wiesel immediately grabbed his hands. Morris frowned and watched Henry leave. "Love you," he whispered.  
Oscar took Morris's hand and led him to where the strikers were. They looked around. It was a lot of people. A lot of work. Oscar immediately got started. Morris stood on the sidelines, watching. He looked around at the workers. Then he saw someone familiar. His father, who had abandoned him ten years earlier.  
At first, Morris could do nothing but watch. He wasn't sure if Oscar had noticed yet. Then, finally, he got the courage to run up to him. "Dad?"   
He turned around. "Morris? Is that you?" He looked closer. "Morris, my boy!" He pulled Morris into a hug,  
Morris didn't like this. He didn't trust his dad, and he didn't want to be touched. Why did his dad, who abandoned him because he was different, suddenly love him? It was weird. Bad weird. He pushed him off as hard as he could, then started fighting, doing what he'd seen Oscar do.   
Finally, when they'd done enough, Oscar grabbed Morris's hand and walked him home.  
"Morris, I have a question..." Oscar sighed. "It's a very important question, and you need to be completely honest, alright?"  
Morris nodded.   
"Was that dad?"  
Another nod.  
"What did he say?"  
"I went over to him, and then he said 'Morris, my boy!' and he hugged me."  
"You went to him?" Oscar asked. "Mo, he's bad. You know that."  
"But I wanted to see him..."  
"You can't. You put yourself in danger. You put us in danger. Understand?"  
Morris nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry."  
"Sorry doesn't cut it. You never do that again, got it?"  
"Got it." A pause. "Can I have my money now, please?"  
Oscar nodded and gave Morris the money. This was the first time he'd ever asked.   
"Thank you. I'm going to the lodging house now. Bye."   
Before Oscar could argue, Morris left.


	4. The New Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey and Les are introduced.

Morris ran into Henry on the way back to the lodging house. He grabbed Henry's hand and tugged on it to get his attention. Henry turned to Morris. "Oh, hey, Mo! Did I miss the strike?"  
"Yeah. But it's okay! I saw my daddy!"   
"Aw, that's nice!"  
"Yeah! I beat him up!" Morris's tone still seemed happy, but Henry wasn't sure that he actually was happy.  
"Oh... Why did you do that?"  
"Because daddy was bad." His tone got a bit more serious. "He left me all alone. But Ossie and Wiesel found me. They paid me." He handed Henry the money.  
"Oh, Moey, I'm so sorry..."  
"Moey?" Morris tilted his head.  
"Yeah. It's a nickname. Do you like it?"  
Morris nodded and started happy flapping. "I like it!"  
"Okay." Henry wanted to know more about Morris's family. He'd always had questions, even before they'd started talking. But Morris seemed happier at the subject change. Henry decided to hold he questions for now. "Do you wanna go back to Jacobi's?"  
Morris quickly nodded, then wrapped his arms around Henry. "Carry me, please."  
Henry picked Morris up. He was lighter than Henry had expected. When they got to Jacobi's, Morris ran over to the counter as soon as Henry put him down. He started whispering to him, too quiet for Henry to hear.  
"Um... Mr. Jacobi, Uncle Wiesel said no dinner yesterday, and I'm really hungry..." Morris whispered.  
"Alright, sweetie. I'll make you a sandwich, okay? Don't worry about paying, I'll take care of it," Jacobi said.  
"Can Henry have one too?"  
"Yes, Henry can have one too. Do you know what he likes?"  
Morris shook his head and gestured for Henry to join him. He came over and stood by Morris's side.   
"Mo wants to get sandwiches for you. What kind do want?" Jacobi asked.   
"Oh, he doesn't have to pay. I'll do it," Henry replied, taking his money out.   
"No, no. I've got it. What do you want?"  
Henry sighed and put the money away. "Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle."  
Jacobi went to get Henry's sandwich, as well as a ham and cheese one for Morris. Henry noticed that Morris was no longer next to him. He knew that there was almost no chance something happened, but immediately went into panic mode anyway. He looked around. He wasn't at any of the tables. Henry didn't hear the door, so he couldn't have gone outside. He knocked on the door to the small bedroom Morris had shown him.   
"Who is it?" Henry recognized the voice as Morris's, but noticed that he sounded more nervous than usual.  
"It's Henry. Can I come in?"   
"Yes, please."   
Henry opened the door and joined Morris on the neatly made pile. He made sure to close the door behind him. Neither of them spoke for a while. Henry didn't want to force Morris, he knew he wasn't very comfortable speaking. And Morris just didn't have anything to say.   
The next morning at the lodging house, there were two new kids. Morris was specifically told not to talk to them. He was told to sit and stay before he even did anything. He was sad that he wasn't even giving a chance, but he knew better than to fight.   
Oscar wasn't the best at counting. He never got a good education, everything he knew was taught to him by Wiesel. The papers were already divided into piles of fifty, both to save time and minimize the risk of him miscounting. Most of the newsies bought either fifty or a hundred papers. One of the new kids asked for twenty. Oscar counted the papers, then handed him over.   
It wasn't long before the new kid said that he only had nineteen papers.  
Wiesel tried to defend Oscar at first, blaming the kid for miscounting. But Jack checked, and sure enough, there were only nineteen. So they gave the kid the missing paper.  
Morris didn't know what happened. He hadn't been paying attention. When he looked up, Wiesel looked angry, and Oscar looked scared. Oscar was never scared. Something was wrong.  
Oscar wasn't scared for himself, he knew he wouldn't get in trouble. He was scared for Morris, who was blamed for everything, even if he had nothing to do with it.  
Morris tugged on Oscar's arm. "Hey, Ossie?"  
Oscar ignored him.  
"Oscar!"  
Wiesel turned to Morris. "Shut up."   
He looked up at Wiesel. "I just wanna ask Oscar a question..."  
"No!" He swung at Morris, hitting him in the face. "Now go."   
Morris ran out of the room. He sat outside the gates, waiting for Oscar and Wiesel to come out. He knew the newsies would come out first, and really hoped they'd leave him alone.   
They ignored him, at first. Then the two new kids came out, followed by Henry. The three of them stopped in front of him. The younger kid was hiding behind the older one. Henry was in front of both.  
"Hey, Mo. Are you okay?" Henry asked. He was trying to sound as gentle as possible.   
Morris nodded. He was fine. This was nothing out of the ordinary for him.  
"Okay..." Henry took a deep breath. "Morris, this is Davey and Les."  
Morris looked up at them, then quickly waved.   
"He's quiet," Henry said.  
"Hey, my brother's quiet too!" Les said. "Except for when I'm in trouble. Then he doesn't shut up! But he's not as bad as Sarah. That's my sister."  
"Les, enough." Davey said, pulling him back.  
Morris had actually liked hearing Les talk. He smiled at him.   
Henry turned around. "Oscar and Wiesel are coming. We have to go."   
"We should be getting home anyway," Davey said. He grabbed Les's hand and pulled him away. Les waved at Morris over his shoulder. The truth is, Davey was a little afraid of Morris, based on how Oscar and Wiesel acted.  
"Bye, Mo. I'll see you later." Henry smiled and waved before running off.   
Morris waved back and watched everyone go. When Wiesel came back, he grabbed Morris's arm and pulled him towards home.


	5. Morris in the Cellar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Intense abuse towards the end

When they got home, Wiesel locked Morris in the cellar immediately, then went to talk with Oscar. Morris knew why he was down there. It was a punishment for talking to Henry.  
He hated the cellar.  
He heard footsteps and yelling in the house above him. Loud footsteps. He felt uncomfortable. He felt his skin crawl, a stinging sensation, almost. His chest felt tight. He closed his eyes and covered his ears. He heard his heart pounding. He wished he could stop time, just be alone in silence for a little bit. He knew the footsteps and his pounding heart weren't as loud as they seemed to be, and he tried reminding himself, but it didn't work. He heard the house settle. He pressed his hands into his ears more. He was tired. He wanted to sleep - to turn everything off. He felt like the room was spinning, closing in... He wanted to get up and pound on the door to be let out, but couldn't move. He was panicking - shaking, hyperventilating...  
The footsteps and yelling stopped. He still hadn't calmed down, but there was a noticeable difference. He started trying to control his breathing. He remembered his mom teaching him how to do that, and remembered it helping for this situation a lot. He was able to relax after a few minutes. He laid on the floor and fell asleep.  
When he woke up, he was still in the cellar. He sat up and looked around. There wasn't too much to see. There was dust and cobwebs. Morris didn't like that. It made his throat tickle. Wiesel kept his beer down there. Morris didn't like that either. He remembered how Wiesel acted when he drank it and how scary he could be. Morris felt his stomach drop just looking at it. Now he really wanted out. He turned away from it.  
He coughed. He hated the feeling in his throat. He wanted water, but there wasn't any. He looked back at the bottles. One of the bottles had been opened, and was resealable. He opened it and took a small sip. He immediately put the bottle back down and started coughing again. It was gross and didn't help much. He had a bit more, but stopped as soon as he started feeling weird. He went to the other side of the room and laid down.  
Morris hated Wiesel. He wanted to go back to his mother. She tried to understand and did whatever she could to help. She would never lock him up. He thought about running away almost every day and trying to find her. That was all he wanted. If he couldn't be back with her, he'd rather die than stay with Wiesel.  
Finally, the door opened. It was Oscar. "Wiesel says go to your room."  
Morris went upstairs and into his room. He got in bed and wrapped himself in his favorite blanket. Everything was okay for about twenty minutes.   
"Morris!" Wiesel yelled, running into the bedroom.   
Morris immediately sat up. He hated yelling. It was scary? Was he in trouble? Why? What if he got hit again?  
Wiesel's tone changed. "Mo, sweetie... Did you drink anything in the cellar?"  
Morris couldn't lie, but he knew he'd be in trouble. He decided to tell the truth. "My throat was scratchy from the dust. Wanted to fix it."  
"You know that's bad." Morris was surprised Wiesel wasn't yelling. "Are you drunk?"  
He shook his head. "No." He did feel a bit weird, but he didn't think he was drunk. He was a bit tipsy, but not drunk.  
"Open your mouth. Let me smell your breath." Morris did as he was told. "I smell beer. You are." He grabbed Morris's arm. "You are so stupid! You're supposed to know that's bad, and you're not supposed to do bad things! Don't you know right from wrong? No, you don't. Stupid kid." He threw Morris to the ground and left.  
Morris knew it was bad. He didn't want to do it, he had to. He wanted water, but that wasn't an option. But was Wiesel right? Was Morris a stupid kid that didn't know right from wrong?  
Wiesel came back up with an empty bottle. He stuck it in Morris's face. "Here's how I knew. This empty bottle." Morris didn't think he finished the bottle, but Wiesel's breath didn't smell, so he didn't drink it... Wiesel threw the bottle to the ground. It shattered, and Morris covered his ears and closed his eyes. Wiesel grabbed a piece of glass and cut Morris with it. Morris screamed, and Wiesel ran out of the room.  
A few minutes later, Oscar came in. "Mo, are you okay? Wiesel said you cut yourself... It looks pretty bad... Why?"  
"Don't know," Morris replied. He wanted to explain that he didn't cut himself, Wiesel cut him. But he was stuck. He couldn't say anything else.   
Oscar had brought a first aid kit with him. He started cleaning Morris's cuts. "It's alright... Don't worry, don't be upset...please... You're gonna be okay... Everything's gonna be okay..."


	6. Strike!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobia (internalized and past)

The next day at work, Morris pretend nothing happened the night before. He had to hide that he was now terrified of Wiesel, but he didn't try hiding the cuts. He didn't know how. When they got in, they were informed that the newsies would now be charged 60 cents per hundred rather than 50.

The newsies obviously weren't happy about the price change. They ended up refusing to work and went on strike.

Morris was scared. He didn't know what this would mean for him. If the newsies weren't working he wasn't working. If he wasn't working, they wouldn't get money. If they didn't get money, they couldn't buy food and he would starve.

Morris wanted to join the strike. The newsies were right, and Pulitzer was wrong. But he wasn't allowed to join. He had to stay with Oscar and Wiesel, and not be a newsie. And he didn't want to lose, but he wanted the newsies to win, and he couldn't support them.

After everyone else left, Morris stayed behind. Oscar and Wiesel didn't bother to get him. He curled up under the table, closed his eyes, and thought about everything. He opened his eyes and saw Henry sitting next to him. "Hey, bud, are you okay?"

"I wanna join the strike," Morris said.

Henry smiled. "You can. It's okay."

Morris shook his head. "I'm not allowed. Wiesel needs me to support him or else."

Henry moved closer "Or else...what?"

"Cellar."

"Cellar?"

Morris just nodded.

"Alright... Alright." He traced a cut on Morris's face. "What happened?"

"The glass. When he broke the bottle."

"Who's he?"

"Wiesel."

"Are you going home?"

Morris shook his head.

"Jacobi's?"

He nodded.

"Okay. How about this? How about...since we're not working...we go on an adventure, and then we go to Jacobi's together?"

Morris gasped. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Henry smiled. "You're welcome, you're welcome, you're welcome."

"Let's go right now! Can we go right now?"

Henry took Morris's hand and ran outside. "Adventure!"

"Adventure!" Morris repeated.

They ran hand in hand, laughing. They finally arrived at their destination, an abandoned building. It looked like an old restaurant that had burned down. "This is... Well, was, my family's deli. Butler Family Deli, heard of it?"

"I went there!" Morris smiled and started jumping up and down. "I went there, I went there!"

Henry smiled and took his hands. "Yay!" He noticed Morris stopped smiling. "You okay?" Then he realized and let go of Morris's hands. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"So, um...you've been here?"

"Yes."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes."

"Did you go a lot?"

"No. Special treat."

"You can look around, if you want."

Morris started looking. It was mostly just ashes, and a few items that survived the fire. At one point, something caught his eye. It was silver and shiny, standing out among the black and gray ash. He pointed to it.

"What is it?" Henry asked. He went over to look. "Oh... Oh my gosh, Morris... This..." He picked it up. "This necklace... It was my grandma's, my dad got it when she died..." He wiped the ashes off and showed it to Morris. It was a silver chain, with a silver heart charm and a small blue gem in the middle. Henry smiled and put it around Morris's neck. "For you."

Morris gasped and looked at the necklace. "For me?"

Henry nodded. "For you."

"But it's yours!"

Henry shook his head. "It's yours. It was never mine. It was my grandma's, then my dad's. And now yours."

"But...why mine?"

"Because... Because I love you, Mo."

Morris smiled. "I love you too!" He gave Henry a bit hug. "I love you, I love you!"

"Do you wanna go now, honey?"

Morris nodded. "Yes please."

Henry took Morris's hand and brought him back to Jacobi's. Jacobi gave them their snack - cookies - and they went into the back room. Morris leaned his head on Henry's shoulder while they ate.

Henry wasn't sure Morris understood what he meant. He loved Morris. More than a friend. He wanted to ask to be his boyfriend, but he was scared of rejection.

Morris loved Henry as well. He wanted to be boyfriends, and would have asked, but he didn't think it was allowed. When he was younger, he once asked Wiesel if he'd be allowed to have a husband instead of a wife. But Wiesel made it very clear, a husband would mean the death penalty.


	7. Dancing in the Dark

Henry finished his cookie first. Morris ate slower, trying not to make crumbs. He wasn't allowed to make crumbs. When he finished, he held his hands up and opened his mouth, as if to say, "All done!"

Henry smiled. "Do you know what you want to do now? Stay here, talk, sleep, go for a walk...?"

"Hm... Outside!" Morris grabbed Henry's hand and pulled him outside. It had gotten dark. Morris looked up at the sky. He loved the moon and the stars. Looking up made him feel so small. He wished he could go up to the stars and get a better look at them.

He was told that his sister was in the stars. His sister died when he was only five. She was nine, and Oscar was seven. One month later, they abandoned Morris. Their sister, Elizabeth, was the one who cared for Morris, considering their parents didn't do much. He loved her very much. He tried to take care of her when she got sick. Their parents yelled at him for bothering her, but she insisted she wanted him there. She loved him and treated him like her own child. She was tough, she'd soak anyone whoever dared to hurt Morris. She had a gentle side too, she'd comfort Morris whenever he was scared or sad. He missed that.

"Mo?" Henry said. "Wanna sit?" He'd been sitting on the ground for a while, waiting for Morris to join him.

Morris nodded and sat next to Henry. Then he pointed up to the sky. "My sister is there with your grandma and your daddy."

Henry was confused at first, but finally realized what that meant. "Oh... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay." He paused. "Lizzie would've liked you, I think."

Henry smiled. "My dad would've liked you."

"And grandma?"

Henry laughed. "And grandma."

"Yay!" Morris started happy flapping. Henry joined in. He knew that made Morris feel better.

"Hey, Morris?" Henry said quietly.

"Hm?"

"You're very pretty."

Morris laughed. "Thank you! But it's so dark! You can't even see me!"

"I know, but you're always pretty."

"You're always pretty too!"

Henry smiled. How could Morris be so sweet, yet have such a bad image? He knew Oscar was bad, and Morris definitely wasn't perfect, but he was a good kid. The worst thing Morris ever did was take Crutchie's crutch, and Oscar had done so much worse. The newsies would also pick on Morris more. "Hey, Mo?"

"Hm?"

"You know I like you, right?"

"Yes. You're my best friend."

"What if I wanted to be more than best friends?"

Morris tilted his head, confused. What was more than best friends?

"Boyfriends," Henry said.

"Yeah! Is that even possible?"

"It is allowed, but it's our secret. Only our very best friends can know, okay?"

Morris nodded. "What do boyfriends do?"

"What do they do? Um...I think it's just the same as best friends, plus kisses and cuddles."

"They dance!" Morris got up and started twirling. Henry got up as well and joined in. Henry copied whatever Morris did. He eventually switched to his happy dance, then grabbed Henry's hands and happy danced with him, but he called this the boyfriends dance.

"Boyfriends usually slow dance," Henry said. "Do you know how?"

"No."

Henry put one hand on Morris's shoulder and the other on his lower back. "Put your hands like this." Morris did what Henry said. Henry started dancing, and Morris just copied exactly what he did. He was a pretty good dancer. It was enough to impress Henry.

"This is fun!" Morris said, laughing. "Thank you so so much for teaching me! You're the best!"

Henry smiled. "Aww, you're welcome! I'm happy you're having fun! But I'm not the best. You are."

"But you're my best."

"And you're mine."

Morris gave Henry a hug. "Thank you. I'm done dancing now and I want to go inside, please."

"Alright."

"Wanna do something first." He looked up at the sky. "Bye Lizzie. And Henry's dad and grandma." He turned back to Henry. "I'm ready now."

"Okay." Henry took Morris's hand and brought him inside. They sat together for a while. Henry told Morris about his family, and Morris was trying to draw him. Morris's art was amazing. He hadn't been able to show it to anyone since Elizabeth, and he'd gotten much better since then. When he finally finished, he showed Henry.

"This is...this is amazing! I love it!" He smiled and gave Morris a hug. The drawing was definitely one of the best he'd ever seen. He hoped Morris would get recognized for his art someday.

"Thank you." He laid down, curled up in a tiny ball. Henry laid next to him and held him close. "Goodnight, HenHen."

Henry smiled. "Night, Moey."


	8. The Refuge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm, fight

"These newsies," Wiesel said, shaking his head. "We gotta shut them down."

"You're right," Oscar said. "We're outta work until they stop, it ain't fair!"

"Yeah!" Morris smiled and stood up from the chair he'd been told to sit and stay in. "We gotta put the price back down!"

"No. No." Wiesel grabbed Morris's shoulders. It was very sudden. It scared him, but he pretended it didn't. "We're not changing the price. There's a rally today. We're going. And we're shutting it down."

"No, no! Shut it down? And...and..."

"Hurt them."

"No!" Morris tried to get away from Wiesel. He started squirming, then tried hitting Wiesel and pushing him.

"Stop it!" Wiesel pushed Morris to the ground, then grabbed his bat, which was leaning against a nearby wall. Morris quickly covered his face. He hated the bat. Wiesel only hit him once, in the arm. He couldn't do much more, since he needed Morris's help at the strike.

Wiesel carried Morris to the house. When they got there, Wiesel put him to bed, then went to plan with Oscar.

Morris didn't sleep. He had no reason to. He wasn't tired, and he hadn't even had dinner yet. And besides, he was thinking too much to sleep. Mostly about the strike. He didn't want anyone getting hurt, especially if it was his fault. He could almost hear what Oscar and Wiesel were saying. Something about Crutchie. He'd have to remember to keep an eye on Crutchie tomorrow, or maybe warn someone about this. He wished he could have heard the entire plan, so he knew exactly what he had to do. Maybe he could figure it out in the morning.

He knew Crutchie would get hurt. Hours had gone by, and he still hadn't slept at all. He knew Oscar and Wiesel had already been asleep for a while. 

He didn't want to go to work tomorrow. He'd rather do anything else. Maybe he could find some way to get out of it...

He ran down to the cellar, making sure to be quiet. He hated it down there. Just the sight of it was enough to upset him. But he had to do this. For Crutchie.

After some searching, he found what he was looking for. An empty bottle. He threw it across the room as hard as he could, taking all of his anger over this situation out on the bottle. He flinched and covered his ears at the sound of the glass breaking, then ran over to get a piece of it. He started cutting wherever he could reach. When he finished, he went outside and laid on the ground. Maybe they'd think it was a fight. This would be enough for him to stay home, right? He heard that people could die from blood loss, it happened at the refuge once. Maybe it would happen to him. Normally that would scare him, but it didn't right now. All that mattered was that he wouldn't have to hurt anyone.

It wasn't long before Oscar ran out. He heard the glass breaking and saw the front door wide open. "Morris, what the hell happened?!"

He sounded angry. He usually wasn't the angry one, at least not to Morris. He quickly sat up, which made him a bit dizzy. "Well...I went for a walk, and...and this guy..."

"No, what happened right now?"

"Beat me up, and..."

"What was the glass breaking?"

"Window..."

"The window isn't broken. A glass bottle in the cellar was. Did you break that?"

He'd have to change his story. "Dropped it. I was moving it, then...I tried cleaning, and... I got cut, then... Then I fell... Then...I wanted to walk."

"I don't think so. Did you cut yourself or something?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Why?"

"Crutchie." He didn't think to explain that he didn't do it because of Crutchie, he did it for him.

"Alright... Alright." Now Oscar was actually mad at Crutchie. "We're gonna go in now, okay? Get you cleaned up, then put you back to bed." He was back to the normal, gentle tone he used with Morris. He carefully picked him up, cleaned his cuts, then got him new pajamas and brought him back to bed.

While they were walking to work, Oscar and Wiesel were far ahead. Morris was usually faster, since he was always so excited to see Henry. But he didn't want to go today. He ended up falling so far behind that Oscar had to carry him the rest of the way.

Morris felt bad when he heard that the newsies didn't have any backup. He wanted to help them. They were right, they deserved it. 

Eventually, the scabs showed up. Morris didn't want to sell to them, so he stood back and watched everything. He was secretly happy when the scabs joined the strike. He wished he could do the same.

Then the fight started. It was just Oscar, Morris, and Wiesel against all of the newsies. Morris didn't do much. He mostly watched. He was a bit scared, but the main reason was a fear of hurting someone. He eventually ran, and the others weren't far behind.

He watched from the side as the newsies got their picture taken by a news reporter. He couldn't help but smile. Maybe this strike would be better than everyone expected.

Before he knew it, he was being pulled back into another fight. This time, the police were there, as well as some extra backup. This wouldn't end well. Was there any way he could get out of this? They wouldn't need him.

Something seemed a bit off during the fight. Morris didn't realize until he was about to hit Jack, when Jack pointed out someone preparing to hit Morris from behind. And it wasn't a newsie, it was someone who was supposed to be on his side. After that, he stepped back and watched.

Eventually, Morris felt someone pulling on his arm. He squirmed at first, then calmed down a bit after realizing it was Oscar. Then he saw he was being pulled towards Crutchie. He knew what he had to do. He didn't want to, but he did. All he did was push Crutchie to the ground. Then, after Crutchie hit him, he ran away. He could feel his heart breaking when Crutchie called for help. He wanted to help, but he knew he couldn't.

He was trying not to cry and scream while watching two bulls come over, and eventually drag Crutchie to the refuge. 

Morris didn't follow Oscar and the bulls. He was too scared to move. Then a third bull picked him up and carried him with them. He buried his face in his shirt. He didn't want to watch this. He eventually fell asleep, then woke up in the refuge. He stood up and looked around. Why was he in here? He hadn't done anything. Maybe the bull was confused and thought he was a newsie. He waited for someone to come over. He'd tell them who he was, and they'd let him go. Well, that was what he hoped for. 

He waited all night, and nobody came. He wanted to go home. Anywhere that wasn't here. He cried and screamed, and the only thing that came out of that was him getting shushed by everyone else. He fell asleep again. He'd be out by morning...


	9. Escape

Morris was still in the refuge when he woke up, and nobody had come to get him. He still believed he wasn't supposed to be here. He hadn't done anything wrong. But neither had Crutchie, and he was here as well.

He hadn't paid much attention to the room he was in. He knew there were other kids, but he hadn't seen their faces. He was laying on the bottom bunk, and it wasn't very comfortable, but he didn't care. He heard the window opening and then whispering, and although he wanted to see what was happening, he didn't get up to check.

When the whispering stopped, he did investigate. He got out of bed and climbed up the side of the bunk. His eyes widened when he saw it was Crutchie. He knew he was here, but not in the same room. He lightly tapped his head.

Crutchie looked up. "Oh... Hey, Morris. Um... What're you doing here?" Crutchie had never spoken to Morris. The only experiences he had with him were bad ones, and he didn't expect this to be any different. Crutchie assumed Morris was here as a worker, not a prisoner.

Morris just shrugged. He didn't know why he was here. He did wish he could explain himself better, but he couldn't say anything. He was scared of what would happen if he did. He wished he could at least tell Crutchie he wasn't here to hurt him.

Crutchie didn't say anything else. He didn't know what to say. Morris climbed down and grabbed Crutchie's crutch, which was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. He brought it over to Crutchie. Crutchie took the crutch. Morris realized that bringing it over didn't help much, since Crutchie probably couldn't get down. He climbed up the side of the bunk and held his hand out. Crutchie hesitantly took Morris's hand and climbed down, then pulled the crutch down. "Thanks for helping."

Morris backed up a bit. He didn't want to be close to Crutchie. Crutchie leaned against the bunk. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Eventually, Morris broke the silence. "You can hit me if you want."

"Huh?" Crutchie didn't think he heard that right. There was no way he did.

"With the crutch. Because I hit you and take it. So you can hit me. As a punishment."

"Oh... No, that's alright." Crutchie smiled a bit, then tightened his grip on the crutch. "So... Why are you here?"

Morris shrugged. "A mistake, I think. I didn't do anything wrong. But neither did you, and you're here..." He paused to think for a moment. "I think Ossie's gonna come get me out. I can ask him to take you too, but I don't know if he can."

"Oh, that's alright. You don't have to bust me out. I... Can I tell you a secret?" 

Morris smiled and nodded. He usually wasn't trusted with secrets, especially the newsies' secrets. He hoped he'd get a turn at sharing a secret next, maybe he could explain the truth to him.

"Okay." Crutchie took a deep breath. He was nervous, but he felt like he could trust Morris for some reason. He didn't think Morris would stop him, but he wasn't positive he wouldn't tell anyone. "I'm planning to escape." He leaned in a bit. "Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window. All I gotta do is climb down without someone seeing, then run. But...not now."

"How are you gonna climb and run with the crutch? Doesn't your leg not work?"

"I... I'll figure it out." Crutchie looked down at the crutch. Crutchie knew Morris was different, and he always wondered what exactly made him the way he was. He'd always wanted to talk to him. He was now thinking Morris might be better than he thought, but he couldn't be sure.

Morris went back onto his bed and pulled the blanket over his head. He was starting to wonder if he was meant to be here. If not, they would've gotten him out by now. He must've fallen asleep at some point, because he was awoken by crying. He'd heard that before, it was a constant noise in the refuge. But this time, it sounded like it was much closer than it had been previously. He climbed off the bed and realized it was Crutchie. "Hey, what happened?"

Crutchie shook his head. "It's nothing. Just... Snyder."

Morris was furious. Crutchie didn't deserve this. He was already badly beaten from the rally, why did Snyder have to make it worse? He grabbed Crutchie's crutch, which was laying on the floor, then threw it across the room before running out. He didn't know where he was going, but he wasn't going to stay here.


	10. Jack Kelly

Morris managed to make it outside. Nobody stopped him, since they had recognized him. Besides Snyder, nobody knew he was a prisoner. Oscar and Morris were former workers at the refuge. Morris had hated working there, but Oscar didn't mind it so much. It wasn't fun, but he didn't complain. 

When he was finally out, Morris ran in the direction he believed Jacobi's was in. He didn't care to reunite with Oscar right now, for all he knew Oscar was against him as well and had helped with his arrest. He only really trusted Henry and Crutchie.

He felt a bit bad for leaving Crutchie behind, but he knew Crutchie had a plan. It wasn't a big deal.

On the walk to the deli, Morris ran into Oscar. At first, Morris backed up and get ready to run. Then he noticed Oscar wasn't trying to grab him, so he probably wouldn't bring him back to the refuge.

Oscar wasn't involved in Morris's arrest. He hadn't even known about it. He suspected it after seeing the bull carry him off and him not returning that night, but couldn't figure out why he'd been arrested. He didn't deserve to be. Oscar was just relieved to have Morris back without any noticeable injuries. He did notice Morris was angry though. Luckily Oscar knew how to calm Morris down, and he managed to do that eventually. 

Once Morris was calm, Oscar told him about their current job. "Okay, so... We have to do something to Jack. I don't know what. Pulitzer just said we have to handle him. So I was thinking brass knuckles, we could-"

"No," Morris interrupted.

"Huh?" Oscar hadn't expected Morris to object, he never did. Even when Morris hated the plan, which was usually the case, he would agree to it. Oscar assumed that he had objected this time because he trusted that Oscar wouldn't hurt him, unlike Wiesel.

"I don't want to. No brass knuckles."

Oscar sighed. "Alright. What should we do then? And you can't say nothing."

"Cellar." That was one of Morris's least favorite punishments, but he was usually okay once he was let out. 

"Cellar? Okay... Well, I don't know about bringing him to our house. But I know Pulitzer has a cellar, and we're meeting Jack in his office. So... I guess that works." Oscar was a bit disappointed that it was their chance to do whatever they wanted and Morris chose such a boring punishment, but he'd rather miss out on having fun with the punishment than upset Morris, especially since he'd just gotten out of the refuge.

Morris was happy that this would be Pulitzer's cellar. He'd been locked in there a few times, and knew there was a printing press in there. He wasn't sure how, but he hoped Jack could use it somehow.

Oscar led Morris to Pulitzer's office. When they arrived, Oscar let go of Morris and grabbed Jack. Morris followed his brother's lead. They led him downstairs.

Morris hadn't realized he'd have to go into the cellar. When Oscar started walking downstairs, Morris let go of Jack and waited at the top. Oscar stopped walking and turned to Morris. "Coming?" Morris nodded and followed them down. 

As soon as he stepped into the cellar, Morris felt numb. His chest tightened. He closed his eyes, then almost tripped down the stairs and had to open them again. He bit his lip as hard as he could. He wanted to scream. He heard Oscar talking, but couldn't make out what he was saying. He was terrified, but why? This was Jack's punishment, not his. There was no reason for him to be scared. But he wanted out right now.

He slowly walked up to the printing press and removed the sheet covering it, then turned to Oscar. He couldn't speak right now and hoped Oscar would take over, which he did. As soon as Oscar started talking, Morris threw the sheet and ran back upstairs, then out of the building.

Jack noticed something was wrong. He didn't know what though. He wanted to help Morris, but there was nothing he could do right now. He'd have to wait until after this punishment was over, and he'd have to get Morris alone.

When Morris had gotten outside, he did what he could to calm himself down. He remembered what he was supposed to do. He was extremely grateful for everything his mother taught him.

After he'd calmed down enough, Morris continued his walk to Jacobi's. When he arrived, he went into his room in the back of the deli. He froze when he noticed there was someone else in the room, but relaxed when he realized it was Henry.

Henry smiled when he saw Morris. "Hey! I've been waiting for you! I hope you're not mad I'm in here... Jacobi let me in, he said it'd be alright for me to wait here. Where have you been?"

Morris didn't want to tell Henry exactly what had happened to him for a few reasons. He didn't want Henry to worry, or to think he was a criminal. But he didn't want to lie either, he knew that was bad. "Crutchie is in the refuge. Can you get him out?"

Henry frowned. He knew that, and he thought Morris had some involvement. The thought of that had scared him. He wondered if Morris had lied about everything at first, if he never was on the side of the newsies and was trying to take them down from the inside. He never suspected Morris would do something like that, but he couldn't help but worry. "I can't get him out. But thank you for telling me. We'll figure something out." 

"Jack is in the cellar." 

"Huh? What cellar?" Henry didn't think any cellar was a big deal, but he knew Morris was telling him for a reason.

"Pulitzer..."

"Pulitzer's cellar? Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore." 

"Okay. I just have one question, but you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. Do we have to get Jack out?"

"No."

"Okay." Henry noticed Morris was upset about something, but he wasn't sure what it was or what he could do about it. He decided to change the subject. "Hey, Mo, we're gonna have another rally tomorrow. In Medda Larkin's theatre. Wanna come?"

Morris looked up at Henry and smiled. "Yes please! I promise I won't hurt anyone this time."

"I know you won't." Henry put an arm around Morris and gave him a small squeeze.

The next morning, Henry brought Morris to the rally. Henry joined the rest of the newsies onstage, and Morris sat in the audience. Morris was smiling throughout the speeches that Davey and Brooklyn's Spot Conlon gave. He was actually very happy that Spot came. Although they'd never met, Morris had heard a lot about Spot and wanted to be just like him. 

When Jack came, Morris felt a mix of excitement and relief. He was happy that Jack didn't look injured or traumatized from his time in the cellar.

However, Morris's excitement didn't last long. He got very angry as soon as Jack mentioned disbanding the union, and that anger only got worse when he noticed Jack taking money from someone. 

Morris usually tried very hard to hold his anger in. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He'd usually wait until he could take his anger out on a wall or some other inanimate object, or he'd punch his hand or stamp his feet. But this time, he couldn't hold it in. He ran up to Jack and pushed him against the wall, then started punching him. Eventually, Spot and Henry pulled him away and Jack ran. Morris wanted to follow, but Spot had a very tight grip that he didn't want to try fighting. Instead, he just screamed until Henry covered his mouth.

When Morris had calmed down enough, Spot let go of him and Henry led him outside. "I know you're angry at Jack, but there's no reason to hit him."

"There is! He destroyed the whole strike!" 

"No, he suggested we disband. We're not gonna. We have Davey and Spot."

Morris crossed his arms and turned away. He wasn't going to argue. He hated arguments, and it seemed he was always wrong. After a moment of silence, Morris left. Henry decided it was best not to follow, so he returned to the lodging house.


End file.
